Doctor Who: Panic Moon Ch. 15

'You like that?' Dulsie laughed, clearly trying to avoid the topic of multiple stabbings. 'Told you I had your back. Sorry it took so long, but everyone's here now. All you need to do is get in close and touch him.'

'Right, because that's so easy...' He huffed, keeping a tight grip on Ren's knife. He muttered, 'Dulsie, you'd better know what you're doing, damn it...'

Behind him, Ren had become oddly silent, though he didn't dare turn around and give Walker unrestricted access to his back just to find out why. He took a few faltering steps forward, toward the enemy that had just stabbed him twice in as many minutes. It wasn't that he didn't believe in Dulcimer, and in fact he could feel her doing something in the back of his head, but, well... the idea of getting any closer to Walker right now went directly against every survival instinct he had.

'You'll be alright, we'll only need a second. You're acting as my conduit, but the minute you touch him we can hit him with all seven of us at once.'

'What does that even mean?' He hissed to himself.

'I'm directly linked with everyone else here, through the Dust. But Walker's unfamiliar, I can't hit him as easily as I can the rest of you. The minute you touch him I'll get a direct link, and I can funnel... the rest of us right into his head. Let's see how the crazy bastard handles that one.'

'Will that work?'

'Historically, having any more than one mind in your head at any one time doesn't end well, no. I might be able to handle it, but a Dullahan is orders of magnitude above a human. No offense.'

'None taken,' Sander thought drily. Theoretically, it could work. He had watched it work once before, back when the Doctor had been on his tenth regeneration and Donna Noble had taken on aspects of a Time Lord's consciousness. It had almost killed her, and Sander couldn't help the thrill of delight that went through him at remembering the sadness that had caused the Doctor. He could truly be a malicious bastard sometimes.

Just one touch? Alright. It's not like a third stab wound could make things worse by this point...

'Hey Walker?' His eyes glittered malevolently. 'C'mere. Give Sander a hug.'

He threw himself forwards. The things he did for his crew sometimes...

Mentally, he had prepared himself, so the moment the knife slipped in between his ribs with another whip crack of agony, he was ready for it. He pressed on in spite of it, a low growl escaping his throat as one hand wrapped around Walker's throat, bearing them both down to the ground, knocking Elsa's headstone completely free of its moorings. It fell to one side as Walker cackled in delight.

'Got him!'

Sander opened his mouth to offer one final quip through the pain burning in his chest, but his voice was stopped by the sudden inrush of sensation, as powerful as a bomb going off in his mind. Walker was making little choking sounds.

In sequence, Sander felt six sets of memories slam into him, one by one. His most trusted allies, souls laid bare, flowing through him like an electric charge on their way to obliterate Walker's mind. He caught little snippets, like half faded photographs, that stuck with him even as he quickly forgot so much more:

Mara, still deeply afraid of Walker, fleeing from Vesperia in disgrace because he had set her up to take the fall for his crimes.

Kanaria, comatose and immersed in nightmares filled with swinging feet and shattered pride.

Tsugi, deeply lonely behind his disinterested façade.

Lysithea, mind still echoing with the screams of the dying, sealed off from the rest of her species for fear of hearing them again.

Ren, the soldier, so angry and out for blood. Guilt and rage, bound together in one frighteningly strong package.

Dulcimer, fleeing from her responsibilities to her species, free and joyous, yet guilty at the state she'd left her kind in. And, more importantly... pursued.

When it was over, Sander couldn't tell how much time had passed. His whole body ached, as though he had just run a marathon, though the multiple stabbings might have contributed to that. His vision cleared slowly, revealing Walker, caked in Sander's blood and staring out from sunken eyes vacantly into space, pale as the grave.

'Sander?' Ren's voice from behind him, concerned and oddly excited, filled with anticipation. 'You okay?'

'Got stabbed, Ren, so I'm gonna go with... no,' Sander said weakly, shaking. 'How much blood can a person safely lose, anyway?'

Ren did actually answer, and given her weight of experience with blood and things related to it, he might have done well to listen to her, but her voice was drowned out in a haze of pain and blood loss, and Sander found himself unable to support his own weight. He fell to one side, landing weakly on his back beside... whatever of Walker was left, panicked that his enemy might merely be unconscious and would get up soon, but unable to stop his own slow slide into delirium.

He heard Ren swearing, just before he passed out, and wondered exactly how much unfinished business he'd left for the people around him to deal with this time. Oddly, his last thought came in the form of a put-upon sigh, as he realized he probably didn't have the time or energy for two lifelong vendettas, should it turn out that Walker was still alive.

As he bled out in the dirt, he found this a hugely unsatisfying last thought to have had.

To be continued...